For the third week in a row I weigh in at 265. I've got some theories about what might be going on, but I'm ultimately not sure, and quite frankly disappointed. (After the weight loss of the weeks prior to my stall, I was hoping to be in the 250s by now.)
Here's a given: I've been doing more aerobics longer and more consistently than at any point in my current weight loss effort. Stairs (50 stories now), elliptical, heck, I even jogged a little... So;
Theory #1: My diet, though better than pre-new-me, has become lax. This most likely the major culprit in the weight loss stall. Though I'm not snackin' on junk at every opportunity, I've been to a birthday party, a pizza party, and my mother-in-law's all in the last few days. An over-abundance of food (some good, some not) within arm's reach makes for a tubby boy. Me.
Theory #2: I've taken up resistance training again. I'm having a real love/hate relationship with my over-sized rubber bands. When I use them, I see positive changes in my body shape and I love the way I feel. Here's the BIG BUT(T): I've noticed (for the 2nd time) that when I'm resistance training, my weight loss slows to a crawl. When I had my little burst of weight loss 5 weeks ago, I'd quit weight training a couple weeks before.
So here's the rub(s): Could I really be replacing fat loss with that much muscle? Is there even that much of an exchange going on? Wouldn't it stand to reason that bigger/more fit muscles would help burn more fat and thereby result in weight loss? Will there be a time when I pass the muscle to fat ratio threshhold (that will result in more dramatic weight loss)? Or does my diet need yet another refocus in order to make this weight loss thing work?
Any advice?
On a good note: The family collectively took me pants shopping. Historically, this is one of my least favorite activities that doesn't involve actual physical pain. This trip was a little different. I was accompanied into a suprisingly spacious changing stall, first by the little one, who crawled under the door, then by my wife who apparently didn't want to be left out. They were just what the doctor ordered, providing all sorts of positive feedback on my new and improved tushie. (I've gotta put in a plug for Steve and Barry's, which is absolutely the best clothing value store I can think of. Some truly blow-yer-mind prices.)
AND I had to drill a new hole on my belt! Sa-WEET! I'm a little confused about the lack of weight loss, but happy with the other stuff!
Curses on the inventor of the drive-thru! May the fleas of one-thousand camels infest their armpits!
I played one of my twisted do-something-good-and-reward-self-with-something-not-so-good games with myself tonight. I rushed to put in a tough 15 minutes of resistance work before leaving so I could "reward" myself with a trip to Arby's. One wouldn't think (if they weren't thinking) that their "Market Fresh" menu wouldn't be that bad for you.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
I feel like crap, so I checked out the nutrition section of their website. After the 700 cal Market Fresh Wrap, I stopped counting. Yuk. When will I ever learn?!
Tonight's been too busy to hit the stairs, too. Grrrr... (Aggrivating side note: Often the busiest nights in the hospital are not the result of patients with acute heath issues. In most cases, the busiest and most aggrivating shifts come from patients with plain old issues. I've got about 5 tonight. The golden rule doesn't seem to apply for some when they're in a hospital bed... or probably anywhere else for that matter.)
This'll be a quickie. The staircase is calling me in low, mocking tones...
Does anybody else spend more time blogging than exercising? MAN! Part of why it's hard for me to justify blogging daily is that I can easily spend far more time jotting down a "quick" note and catching up on on bud-blogs than time in actual exercise.
Wierd little irony, eh?
Take care, all! Keep fightin' the good fight!
P.S. Special thanks to a couple of EP all-stars, Anna Down Under and Tawa Chihuahua for the recent reading/viewing recommendations.
The dreaded 12-hour-a-workday weekend is over. I pretty much go home, sleep, get up, shower (optional, depending on quality of sleep), and head back to work with leftovers for meals. The stairwell has become my cold-hearted, uncompassionate, echoy companion, as I just haven't been able to get in any other exercise edgewise. Sometimes it's nice to work nights -- I don't bump into that many people when I'm sweatin' the steps. And I mean sweatin'. I am good at perspiration. I can actually keep track of the sweat droplet accumulations as I pass various spots repeatedly.
For better or worse, I bumped into the hospital's nurse manager yesterday after about 30 stories (don't be impressed -- it's been a very slow build up, and I'm still fat). She, seeing my sweat-soaked t-shirt and hearing my plodding feet and heavy breathing thought something might be seriously amiss. I had to explain exactly what was going on and attempt to reassure her that this was, in fact, a semi-planned activity. Her internal health-care provider was, of course, needing additional info. Satisfied with the 135bpm pulse, she gave me some very sage advice with a wink: "If you start to feel funny, at least crawl out into the hallway so someone will see you on the floor."
Thanks Brigit. I do appreciate it.
There's no better place to climb the stairs than in a hospital with a decent cardiac unit.
G'nite all. I'm goin' to bed... at 10am. I gotta be crazy.
Wow, am I glad that spring has sprung. I just love life in Minnesota from April through October when the weather's temperate, the colors are lovely, and the lakes beckon. The remaining months require hanging onto sanity for dear life. I'm so excited to move around in the outdoors. (I'm not your typical hockey-obsessed, snow-shoeing, let's-camp-in-an-igloo Viking.)
Nonetheless, for whatever reason I believe I've been suffering with a minor bout with anhedonia for the last couple of weeks. (Yes, I've completely overstepped my clinical expertise with this self-diagnosis.) I've just been feeling weird lately, having difficulty getting excited about much. I've been having trouble finding music interesing, and it's been really, really hard to get excited about exercise, though I've been doing it anyway, though to a lesser extent. Food? Not interesing. Now that's weird! There doesn't seem to be any event that's triggered this, it just sort of came on. I don't even think I've had any dietary changes lately.
I'm only writing this now because, 1) It's been more of an annoyance than anything (though honestly I'm not motivated to do much about it), and 2) My wife asked me today if I'm depressed. I didn't think I was acting depressed, but I guess if she's noticed, I must be a little off.
So here's the question that I'll pose to you: From an exercise stand-point, what have you done when you're faced with needing to do exercise and you've hit a bit of a mental wall? What's helped you dig deep and locate your internal markers that get you back on the treadmill? I'm not thinking I need therapy, 'cause I've gone through this before. I usually seem to just "merge" out of it.
Here's me, hoping the promise of springtime will help with the "merge".
P.S. No weight loss again this week. A little bit of a surprise, but my weight loss seems to be going in waves. See ya.
Monday, when I stepped on the scale for my weekly weigh-in, I was cautiously optimistic but prepared for disappointment. We've all had those weeks where we've been sooooo good with our diet and exercise but it just doesn't reflect in the scale. I guess the good vibes from my skinny jeans episode were still buzzin'... I've cracked the fabled 270s.
For the first time since about week two, I didn't cheat on my diet and I worked out religiously. The results have given me a huge shot in the arm to keep at this.
For a sad/happy bit of reference, my daughter has never seen me this skinny. Of course to her, love is blessedly blind, and when she asks me, as she did yesterday, "Daddy... why is your bottom so big?", I know it's mostly 'cause my caboose is right at her eye-level... I think.
Here's another thing I think: I love the fact that she doesn't care if my belly is shrinking! To her, as long as I can help her fly around the room like an amusement park ride and tickle/wrestle, I'm a superhero! Gosh, I love my kid.
Update on the skinny jeans: They went through the dryer (after having worn them until my wife insisted that malice would come to me if I didn't take them off and wash them), and therefore I realized I need to lose a few more inches. (Hear the sound of me sucking my gut in...)
Thanks again everybody for your encouragement! It makes such a big difference! Take care!
Jeans are unforgiving. They lack empathy. Heck, they can be downright mean as they dispassionately remind you (as only they can) that your waistline has expanded without your permission. They've even taunted me in the past...
"Good luck, pal. Yeah, that's right. Inhaling while writhing on the bed will make you skinnier. Well done. Didn't you just buy me a couple months ago? Hey! That hurts! You want me to rip?! Don't make me do it, 'cause I will!"
Dejected. I return my former "fat jeans" to the hanger, waiting for "someday".
In an interesting turn of events, "someday" was today.
When I opened my closet this morning, there they were, somehow front and center: The 40-inchers. Emboldened with the optimistic knowledge that I'd lost a few pounds since becoming an EP'er, I peeked around to see if my wife was present to witness this potentially Funniest Home Video moment. Since I was alone, I firmly determined, "What the heck..."
I couldn't believe it. On they went. Not a moan or a grunt from either of us. I would even close the fly without my gut getting displaced north of my ribs. I thought back to when I might have worn this pair last. It probably wasn't in my daughter's lifetime. She's 4. With a smirk and small nod, I went to find my girls.
(Sometimes) I love it that they notice everything. I didn't have to say anything. I just turned around and put my butt on display. Over my shoulder I heard, "No... Honey. No... Wow..."
I'm a grown man, but I just giggled a little remembering it.
I can't tell you how satisfied I am to get back into my "I'll never let myself get bigger than these jeans" jeans. Somethings working, and it's working well. A couple of people at work have finally noticed and are asking, "What's your secret?" (A direct confirmation of Tawa Chihuahua's prediction. Thanks!) It's given me another little boost, a reminder that some planning and execution can achieve goals, even in this body.
I've still got a long road and some daily struggles and choices ahead. But gosh! This feels good!
Thanks everybody for your encouragement and wisdom! I owe you one... no, several! Blessings!
...will probably make you fat and kill you later (to re-coin a phrase). Here's another retooled cliche: If you can't beat 'em, for gosh sakes, don't hit the buffet!
I've come to the realization that if a food isn't helping me reach my goals, it's back-slide material, and to date I am a life-long backslider. If I'm serious about losing weight, I've got to become serious about my body's fuel, and there is no healthy way to gift-wrap pizza. (Darn it.)
I'm finally getting back into the groove of "real life". I've had 3 straight days of workouts and my drumsticks hurt. I'm not to be congratulated because my diet still needs refocus, read: MORE VEGGIES.
Your encouragement has been filled with wisdom and humor and I so appreciate it. I hope to check in with all my EP buds soon, but it's been a nutty week (12-hr shifts again).
Prepost note: I was thrilled this AM to log on and see photos of real EP users who've accomplished success (rather than the cheesy, photostock models that had previously "graced" the page banner)! Well done, EP! Even bigger kudos to "Leanne", "Shelly", and ""Swimkatt" for not only lookin' good, but achieving something great! I'll be looking for your glamor shots up there soon, EP pals!
I've been ruminating on the content of my last post as it relates to how I've been living my days recently. It's painful to admit, but I've settled into a holding pattern of sorts, not losing ground (thankfully), but not aggressively attacking to gain much ground either. My goals have become wishes and my benchmarks, hopes. Note to self: Ain't nothin' gonna get done that way, pal.
Chalk it up to vacation, or worse yet, returning from vacation. A little back-to-the-real-world blues, maybe. Who knows. Ultimately, it doesn't matter. I need to refocus and remember what I want/need from my life and efforts. (You'd think that a little time on the beach would spur anyone on to extra time on the workout mill. Not in my wierded-out brain.) I've gone 3 days with no aerobic exercise and 7 days without resistance training and I'm feeling it. I'm actually a little worried about my next workout, not that that should stop me, but it for whatver reason gives me pause. I'm crazy, I know.
I take heart that I have another 3 months to hide under bulky clothes before the shot-sleeved season hits. I vascilate between finding that fact motivating (to work out and emerge from my winter sweatshirts like a butterfly from his... uh... we might be taking this a little far), and daunting (if we don't learn from our history - in this case, long-term lethargy - we're doomed to couch potato-hood).
I have a mental image of myself in the future that I wish I could print and put on my mirror: Me with my chest sticking out farther than my spare tire.
Is that attainable? Sure. Will it happen? That's the 75 pound question.
I'll draw inspiration from that for now, and hopefully we'll get in 2-3 really great workout days in a row here. Of course, I'll keep you (and me) posted.
I pretty much go home, sleep, get up, shower (optional, depending on quality of sleep), and head back to work with leftovers for meals. The stairwell has become my cold-hearted, uncompassionate, echoy companion, as I just haven't been able to get in any other exercise edgewise. Sometimes it's nice to work nights -- I don't bump into that many people when I'm sweatin' the steps. And I mean sweatin'. I am good at perspiration. I can actually keep track of the sweat droplet accumulations as I pass various spots repeatedly.
